


Monophobia

by MargotCelvin



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Brotherly Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff, Friendship, Getting Together, M/M, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Parental Bruce Wayne, Romani Dick Grayson, Sibling Bonding, T for swearing, Time Skips, no beta we die like robins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:09:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25419730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MargotCelvin/pseuds/MargotCelvin
Summary: Just a few times in Dick’s life that he realized he wasn’t alone in life, not by a long shot.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Wally West, Roy Harper/Jason Todd (implied)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 143





	Monophobia

Dick hadn’t been to sleep yet. The bed still felt too big for him. The sheets felt too soft and expensive. He curled in on himself, clutching his stuffed bear into his chest. He had heard too many people talking at school today. It was mostly the teachers when they thought he couldn’t hear them. ‘Charity case’ and ‘publicity stunt’ got thrown around like confetti. ‘He’ll lose interest soon enough’ was another popular idea. ‘What’s a billionaire doing with a circus orphan?’ was something he heard one of them say. ‘You sound funny’ that had been one of his classmates. He tried to explain that it was because his parents were from Romania and that Romanian is his first language because of it. And then she said, ‘I thought you lived with Bruce Wayne. That’s what my mommy said.’ How do you explain to another eight-year-old that your parents were murdered?

He couldn’t help it. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t ask Bruce to take him in. He was sure he would’ve been fine staying with the circus, but he also wanted to know who killed his parents. But he still hadn’t asked for all this. He wasn’t even sure if this is what he wanted.

He tried to keep his tears inside and, when that didn’t work, keep his cries quiet. He didn’t want Bruce to hear. He didn’t want him to think that Dick couldn’t handle all this. He wouldn’t be allowed to help if he was weak. And only weak, children cry, and he knew that.

Dick heard footsteps in the hallway. He knew that it was Bruce since there was no clicking; Alfred always clicked his heels. Dick sunk into his bed and tried to act like he was asleep. The hall light illuminated his room, showing a clear outline of the man who had taken him in. Someone who had treated him with such kindness when the rest of the world seemed so against him. The darkness soon returned, though. Bruce was probably just checking to make sure he was asleep. Dick sniffled and let out a shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Why are you crying?” a deep voice behind him asked. Bruce was eerily quiet when he wanted to be. Dick wasn’t going to respond until a weight joined his bed. “Dick, please tell me why you’re upset.” Dick sat up and finally looked over to his guardian.

“I’m okay,” his accent sure did thicken when he was upset.

“Did something happen at school?” Dick shrugged, that was where all this happened. “Did someone say something?” Dick nodded; he didn’t like lying to Bruce. “Will you tell me what they said?”

“Am I a charity stunt?” Dick asked as the tears rolling down his cheeks thickened.

“What?”

“That’s what some of my teachers said. One said you would lose interest in me and give me to someone else. Is that true?”

“No. Dick, you’re not a stunt or a hobby. I want to help you; however, you need me to.” Bruce smoothed some of Dick’s hair as he spoke. “Is there anything else bugging you tonight?”

“The bed is too big.” Bruce seemed almost confused by the idea, so Dick added, “Will you stay with me?”

“Of course, Dick,” Bruce got under the covers with the tiny child he had allowed into his home. Memories of a slightly younger Alfred and a much younger Bruce doing the same thing after many terrible nights flooded Bruce’s head. Maybe that was why this part didn’t seem to scare him, but everything else that came with parenthood was absolutely terrifying to Bruce. At least he had Alfred to help him along the way.

“Thank you, Bruce,” a tiny voice escaped the still crying child. Bruce tightened his grip on the boy as an answer. Dick asked, “Are you going to be my new dad?” through a sniffle.

“Only if you want me to. I will be here for you, no matter what, though.” Dick tightened his grip on Bruce’s shirt, silently hoping that Bruce really would be there for him, he needed that. There would be many other nights that Dick would be awoken by a nightmare or a painful memory and crawl into Bruce’s bed. He would have plenty of bad days and so many more that were filled with laughter. He had stopped feeling alone in the Manor.

•••

Dick sat up with a start; he couldn’t seem to catch his breath all of a sudden. He had had this nightmare before. He should be used to it. But he usually had it at the Manor and could go to Bruce for comfort, but he was off-world at the moment, so that wasn’t happening. Why did Bruce have to leave at this time of the year? He knew that Dick was going to have a hard time right now. His walls were closing in on him. He needed to get out of here. He grabbed his mask and stuck it on haphazardly.

He walked through the halls with no real direction or incentive, just trying to get his mind off the screams in his nightmare. He hadn’t noticed that he had wandered into the kitchen until he bumped into one of the counters. Tea. Tea would help. Maybe he would stop dissociating then.

“Rob,” Dick jumped at the voice and turned to face its owner. Wally put his hands up defensively. “It’s just me.”

“Oh. Hey.”

“What are you doing up? Bat schedule?”

“Huh?” Wally thought Dick seemed so out of it.

“Are you okay?”

“No.” Wally led Dick to the couch and sat him down. Dick was trying so hard to keep himself from breaking down again, although it was so much harder with how Wally was looking at him. “I miss them. So much.”

“Who?”

Dick seemingly didn’t hear him because instead of answering, he said, “It’s my fault they’re dead.”

“What are you talking about?” Wally was trying to get answers so that he could help his friend.

“My parents,” Dick’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“I thought Bats was your dad?”

“Legally. But my actual parents are dead. I had the same nightmare about them tonight.”

“What happens? In your nightmare?”

“We’re going through the show like normal, we were gymnasts,” well that explained Robin’s insane flexibility to Wally, “The show was going well, it was one of the bests we had done. They told me they didn’t want me going on the trapeze that night, so I didn’t. I had hurt my wrist a few days beforehand, so it was still healing and had just started to hurt again. I saw the partially cut cable during their show, and I tried to scream for them to stop, but nothing came out. I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t stop it. I watched them fall.”

The alarm on Rob’s watch went off, reminding him that he had tea on the counter. He sighed, but there was suddenly a mug in front of him. Wally must have gotten it for him in the two seconds it took him to breathe.

“Thank you.”

“Do you want me to stay with you?” Robin hummed in agreement as he sipped his tea. He didn’t like being alone on nights like this, and Wally always made him feel better about things. “Your mask is crooked.”

“Crap. Can you fix it?”

“You realize that means I’ll see your eyes, right.” Dick shrugged. He was too tired and emotionally drained to care about a secret identity. Wally peeled off the mask and stared when he finally got to see Robin’s eyes. They were the deepest, clearest blue he had ever seen, reminding him of the ocean on a clear day.

“Walls?” Dick asked when his friend had just stared at him for a long moment.

“Sorry. Your eyes are just beautiful.”

“Thank you.” A sly smile crept its way onto his lips at the compliment.

“There’s a part of me that really wants to kiss you, but I know that’s a terrible idea. Just like the fact that I said that out loud.”

“You want to kiss me? I thought you liked Artemis,” Wally shook his head not caring at the moment to explain that he and Artemis had tried being together for a hot sec but then decided that they were better as friends, he was much more interested in the small boy who was closing some of the distance between them on the couch. “I would like it… if you kissed me.”

“You would?” Robin nodded his head. “I have a question first.”

“What is it?”

“Will you tell me your real name some point soon?” Robin nodded his head again, noticing that his voice has left him entirely. Bats taught him a lot of things, how to deal with your crush clearly being into you too is not something that had made the criteria. He leaned in slightly, waiting for Wally to close the gap between them. It was nowhere near perfect, but as a first kiss goes, it was nice.

Wally was warm, although Dick knew that from the many times that they had cuddled or leaned against one another. But this was something entirely different. This was a warmth that started outside yourself and sank deep underneath your skin. Dick brought one of his hands up to the back of Wally’s neck, feeling the soft red hair flit across his fingers.

Dick broke their kiss because of the yawn that escaped him. Wally chuckled to himself and tucked a lock of raven hair behind Dick’s ear. The tiredness had returned to blue eyes that were suddenly trying and failing at focusing on Wally’s face.

“Do you want to go back to bed?” Dick nodded and just made grabby hands at Wally. “I’m not carrying you,” he laughed, the laugh only got stronger at the pout that Wally was suddenly met with. “Alright. Fine.”

Dick smirked and let himself get picked up, bridal style, it was just the easiest way for Wally to carry the smaller boy. And if Dick nuzzled into Wally’s neck like a cat, that was their secret.

Wally laid the boy onto his bed once they reached the room that was designated for Robin. However, there wasn’t much to differentiate this room from Wally’s own other than some of the pictures that were scattered around the room. This one had pictures of the team as well as many pictures of Wally and Robin or Robin with Bats.

“Will you stay with me?”

“Sure thing.” Wally joined the other boy in bed, although it wasn’t the first time. Usually, when something like this happened, it was as a sleepover, and others joined the two of them in a group event where the two of them couldn’t spend any real time along. Wally was enthusiastic about spending some actual time with Robin, who he would soon be finding out the real name of.

Dick buried his nose in Wally’s chest as he was lulled back to sleep by the rhythmic breathing next to him. In a weird, vague way, it reminded him of when Bruce would comfort him after a nightmare. The person next to him was solid and real, not like the phantom people that haunted him in his nightmares and the occasional dream.

•••

Charismatic. Handsome. Rich. Snobby. Entitled. These were all things that people used to describe one Dick Grayson. Most of them would be wrong, but that didn’t stop people from thinking it. His favorite thing was when people would make up stories that would accompany the eyebags he was usually rocking. It was generally along the lines that he was too busy partying and being a playboy like his billionaire father.

They were usually from team things. Right now, he was trying to decode some gangster’s plans, but that, of course, required him to translate them from Russian. This usually is no problem, but the system they regularly used was down, so he had to do this by hand. He felt terrible that he wasn’t eating the lunch that Alfred made him, but this seemed important, the team was counting on him.

“Well, look what we have here,” Dick recognized the voice although he didn’t really want to look up. He knew that the voice belonged to one of the sons of a Gotham elite, but he didn’t remember which one, he was usually only half paying attention at those functions.

“What do you want, Eli?”

“Am I not allowed to talk to someone in my circle?” Eli was all about social status and public opinion. He had tried to be friends with Dick when they entered high school, but Dick had always thought he was fake.

“Can I help you with something? I’m a little busy,” Dick gestured to the paper that sat in front of him. Eli glared at him as an answer, so he went back to translating. He had finally figured out what one of the phrases meant and made his note, although he made it in Romanian, which Eli seemed to notice.

“People wouldn’t avoid you if you stopped writing in some made-up language. And if you actually hung around the right people.” Seemingly annoyed by Dick not giving him the response he was looking for, Eli dumped his water bottle on the pages in front of Dick, chuckled at the squeaking noise Dick made and walked away with his goons in tow.

“Shit,” Dick repeated under his breath, he did not need to get in trouble for profanity as he grabbed all his stuff and ran out of the lunchroom. He dashed into the first restroom he came upon and slammed his hand against the dryer.

“No, no, no,” Dick muttered as he saw that the pages were officially ruined, all of his hard work gone. He had officially let his team down. He slid down the wall until he was completely sitting on the ground. He looked up at the sound of one of the toilets flushing, noticing the shoes that were clearly visible at this point, he also noticed that they were women’s shoes. Perfect. Just what he needed, being caught in the women’s restroom having a breakdown. As if he didn’t get enough weird looks already.

“What happened to you?” Artemis asked, opening the stall door and looking at her crumpled friend. At least it was Artemis, he could trust her. He did trust her.

“Eli.”

“You know you could kick his and all of his goon’s asses, right?” she asked as she washed and dried her hands.

“I’m trying not to get in trouble. I would like to not get benched for some stupid amount of time.” Artemis sat and joined him on the ground. “Please don’t tell Wally. He already worries too much.”

“Okay. Are those the translations you were working on?” Dick nodded and handed the pages over, not that it was helpful with all his scribbling ruined. “I’d offer to help, but I can barely make it through high school French.”

The humorless chuckle that escaped him was nothing like she was used to. She had grown used to his cackle at any terrible joke Kid Idiot said or at any of their pranks that had Con more confused than usual. This was not Robin. And she was fairly certain this wasn’t Dick Grayson either. She had seen him at Wayne Galas that the team had protected. He was vibrant and full of life with a genuine laugh that she thought had bounced across the room when she first heard it.

“What’s wrong?”

“I hate it here. I don’t understand why I apparently still need to come here when I could test out at this point, and then I could be helpful out there and not here, and I can be with the team, and then I’m not- I’m not alone.”

“Why do you think you’re alone here, it’s a big school?”

“Everyone thinks I’m stuck up and that I think I’m better than everyone else. Because my last name is hyphenated, people think that I’m a child some woman had with B and then just dropped off. Someone told me that he only keeps me is because he feels bad for me. And I thought that I would get over that because I thought the same thing as a kid, and now, I believe it again.”

“You know that’s not true. We all saw him tear Gotham apart when you got kidnapped,” Dick went to open his mouth, “And don’t you dare ask me which time because you and I both know what time I’m talking about.” Dick closed his mouth; he did know what time she was talking about. “Now I can’t help what other people think, but I’m stubborn as hell. When I first met Richard John Grayson, I really thought you had earned the nickname Dick. And then, I met Robin, and I met a kid who was so compassionate and helpful and smart and annoying, but I really care about him. Because we’re a team, both in the masks and out of them.”

“Thanks, Artemis.”

“Eat lunch with me tomorrow.”

“I don’t want you to be associated with me. What would your friends think?”

“I don’t care what they think about you now. I want them to see the Dick Grayson that I know and tolerate more than most other people.”

“You’re sure?”

“Am I ever not sure of myself?”

“I guess that’s true. Thank you.” Maybe tomorrow would be better. Maybe tomorrow he would stop feeling so alone at school.

•••

Late nights in the Manor always felt so strange. The nights were usually lively from getting ready for patrols, patching up one another, or staying up all night in the kitchen while Jason cooks and yells at the others to stop touching things. The Manor was always alive at night. But not tonight.

Everyone else was out on patrol for the night, but Dick had been benched. You can’t run around as Nightwing and jump from building to building with a broken ankle. He had come back to the Manor so that Alfred could take care of it because he didn’t trust any other doctor to not ask too many questions. He had gotten good at lying and at excuses, but he was tired, so it was hard to come up with convincing ones. Wally certainly wasn’t pleased with the idea until Dick said he could visit occasionally.

Dick didn’t know how he had gotten there, but he ended up in the library. He liked it here. When he was younger, he used to sneak into here to look at some of the old photo albums on the shelves. He laughed a lot at some of the “baby Bruce” pictures he had found. Alfred found that incredibly amusing. Dick scanned the labels on the shelves, noticing that a lot of them were in the ‘Richard Grayson’ area. He pulled a few out and decided he needed to sit down; his leg hurt.

Dick sat on one of the couches and propped his leg up as well. He flipped open the photo album and remembered why he didn’t look at his own albums that often. Faces that resembled his own stared back at him. His parents smiled at him. He hadn’t really thought about them for a bit. He knew that was bad, but it was how he had learned how to cope. He still celebrated their birthdays and the anniversary of their death, but he tried not to think about them that often. It just made it harder, especially when he was younger.

“What are you looking at?” Dick looked up at Tim’s voice. Water dripped off his hair; they must have gotten back a bit ago if he had already taken a shower. What time did that mean it was? It had probably been a slow night anyway; Bruce usually sends the boys back early when that happens.

“Old photos.” Tim leaned over Dick’s shoulders so that he could also look at the photos. Dick had gone back to the beginning so that Tim could see all of them.

“Where did you find these?”

“One of the shelves. We all have some.” Dick turned the page.

“I remember this photo being taken.” Tim pointed to a picture of the Flying Graysons with the Drake family. The tiny Tim matched the Graysons’ genuine smiles, which seemed to make the Drake smiles seem so forced. “It was one of the best days of my life.”

“How so?” Dick asked through a slight laugh.

“You know you were my hero for years, right? I mean, you still are, but like when I was an actual kid, I wanted to be just like you. I hurt myself so many times trying to copy your moves. I mean, I still do that, but I haven’t broken anything in a while. I can’t tell you how many times I broke or sprained my wrist because I didn’t catch myself correctly after a flip.”

“How much coffee did you drink?”

“Is it that obvious?” Tim’s talking speed was faster than normal, and he was rambling. He was clearly exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep. Tim’s insomnia had been worse than normal lately, meaning that it was anyone’s guess as to when the last time he actually slept was and when he didn’t just pass out for a few hours before getting back up and working again.

“You’re my brother, Tim. Of course it’s obvious to me.”

“Are you going to lecture me?”

“Are you going to actually try to sleep at some point today?”

“I take daily naps.”

“When and how long?”

“Usually midafternoon and for like an hour or two.” Dick sighed, knowing that that was about as good as it was going to get with Tim. Tim pulled himself up onto the back of the couch and got comfortable up there, Dick wasn’t sure how it was comfortable, but he had learned not to ask. “What other pictures you got?”

Dick turned the page, mostly skipping over the other ones of his parents. He made it to his old school photos, which caused him to groan out of embarrassment and for Tim to laugh way too hard. Even at a young age, Dick smiled like he knew something you didn’t and that he was definitively flirting with you. That never went away.

“What are you idiots laughing at?” Jason asked as Tim caught himself, both from the surprise of another voice and that he was still laughing at the newest picture they had stopped at.

“Dick pics,” Tim snorted at Dick’s comment, which had been the point of it. It did cause Jason to come over and look at them, though.

“You should not look that happy about third place, aren’t you smart or something?”

“Thanks, Jason. And I was happy because I had put it together the night before and I was rubbing it into B’s face since he thought I couldn’t do it. So that’s smug smiling and not happy smiling.” Dick closed that book and grabbed the other one. He opened this one and saw that it was all Nightwing stuff. “I didn’t know B made an album of all my stuff still.”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Jason asked.

“He and I fought a lot. He’s barely spoken to me since I’ve been back.” Dick wasn’t paying too much attention to his brothers anymore; he was much enamored by the fact that Bruce had cut out so many newspaper clippings about Nightwing’s achievements, many of them were from when he first appeared or when he had worked with the Titans.

“You’re still his son. You’re his first son. He’ll always be proud of you,” Tim added.

“I remember helping him make these,” Jason added. Dick looked over his shoulder at his brother. “We would scour the newspapers looking for anything about you. He originally told me that it was to make sure you weren’t dead, but I know it was because he was proud of you for going off on your own. Making a name for yourself.”

Dick dramatically closed the book and said, “Okay. I can’t handle any more of this sappiness. I will ugly cry at both of you.” He didn’t mean it.

“Oh Jason, will you grab a book and read it to us?” Tim asked. This was something that they had done before based on Jason’s reaction, which was just rolling his eyes and going over to the bookshelf without any real fight.

“Where’s Damian?” Dick asked. He figured the little gremlin would’ve made his way in here by now.

“He’s probably still out on patrol. Bruce said he was going to talk to him.”

“He being worse than normal?”

“Way worse since his mom visited a few weeks ago. I’m being referred to as the ‘worst Robin’ again,” Tim said all of this through a joking tone, but Dick knew that it bothered Tim exponentially more than he let on. If he had finally said something to Bruce, it meant that it was worse than what he said it was, and it had to have passed Tim’s breaking point since having Bruce talk to Damian sometimes has negative results.

“You were a great Robin. Nothing he says can change that.” Tim smiled and looked away from Dick, clearly embarrassed by the praise. Tim had never been good at compliments; he didn’t know how to respond to them given the way his parents had been.

“Okay, it’s sad in here, so I got Frankenstein so that we could make fun of a college dropout who thinks he’s a genius.” Tim looked back up and tried to hide his excitement. This was one of his favorite ones for Jason to read. It was also the only story he knew in more than one language without having to think about it. “And for extra giggles, I grabbed the German one.”

“You’re lucky I know German,” Dick commented, moving his feet enough for Tim to slip under them.

“You know like every language,” Jason retorted, pulling up a chair to sit closer to his brothers.

“Mostly European ones.” Jason found where he wanted to start in the story, which absolutely wasn’t the beginning and started reading, exaggerating the accent and his reading so that Tim would laugh more at it. At a much slower part of the story, Dick looked over to see what state his brother was in.

“Tim’s asleep,” Dick told Jason, who looked over and saw that Tim had indeed curled in on himself and fallen asleep.

“Maybe he’ll sleep for more than an hour.”

“How bad has Damian been?” Jason didn’t spend any more time at the Manor than Dick did, but he had always been closer to Tim than Dick had been. It was probably because he usually had to help control their tiny demon.

“He won’t tell me, so worse than ever before. Tim spends more time at me and Roy's place than here. I think he would go over to Connor’s, but he’s afraid Clark would tell, and it’s not like he can go to the Tower. I’ve never seen him so upset, Dick. I’m sure you already know how little he’s sleeping.”

“Do you think Damian brought up his parents?”

“Fucking probably.” The three of them understood what it was like to have terrible to no parents. Damian didn’t. Damian also knew that Tim blamed himself for what happened to his parents. He knew exactly how to push Tim’s buttons. “Bats sent us back early tonight because that one almost fell off a building, he’s so tired. He’s also probably going to talk to Damian. Tim spent hours in his office with him yesterday. Damian was bitching to Alfred about how he couldn’t hear what they were talking about.”

Dick sighed and let his head fall onto the back of the couch. He could see Tim from that angle. Tim seemed to open his eyes slightly before deciding that he didn’t want to sleep sitting up and lying down on his brother before completely falling back to sleep. Dick ran his fingers through Tim’s hair.

“I know you want us all to get along, but you know we can’t.”

“I know. I just wanted a family is all I guess.”

“You do have a family. Just a fucking dysfunctional one that doesn’t understand how to show emotions.”

“I know you care, Jason, despite it ruining your cool guy image.”

“Don’t tell anyone.” The two of them stayed in the library and talked for hours. They didn’t want to wake Tim up. Jason had, at some point, fallen asleep on the chair he was sitting in. Dick found that he wasn’t tired but also couldn’t move, so he was forced to just look at the third photo album that he had grabbed.

He flipped open the book and saw that this was the best one yet. It seemed to be pictures of Dick with his brothers. There was one from when Jason was Robin, and they were in a very similar situation they were in now. Dick had been helping Jason work on his French, but they had fallen asleep on the couch he was on now. A later picture showed a younger Tim grimacing at his brothers and their stereotypical vacation fashion choices. A later picture showed the fort that the boys had set up in the parlor when Tim had been benched and was very upset about it. The final picture was all four of them smiling. It had been at a more tolerable gala, but they were all at least enjoy each other’s company. Maybe they weren’t there right now, but they could get there again. And getting there again meant that he was going to have to spend more time with them. Time when he generally felt alone could be spent with his brothers instead. He liked the idea of that.

**Author's Note:**

> Monophobia means the fear of being alone and I thought that was really cool since I didn't have a title until about a minute before I posted this. This is also my first work in this fandom so lol. 
> 
> Come fangirl with me/say hello on my Tumblr or Twitter. Both are @MargotCelvin !


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